


Stay

by JosephineStone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco wants to forget that Harry exists, but Harry isn’t making that very easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Songspiration: Bad Blood by Bastille  
> Prompter: laurelgreengras  
> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.  
> Warning(s): Constant flashbacks. As the story progresses, the flashbacks go backwards. PG-13 for language.  
> Epilogue compliant? No  
> Author's Notes: Thanks to digthewriter, who is a saint and always working with me until the last minute. I would never get anything done without you. ♥

 

 

**Present**

  
Draco squinted down at the parchment in front of him. Damn them. If he kept straining his eyes trying to read the chicken scratch that most of the Aurors liked to call penmanship, he’d need glasses before the year was out. He sighed, rubbed his eyes, and tried to ignore that Potter hovered near the edge of his desk. It was just outside the Head Auror’s office. Officially, he was that Head Auror’s assistant. What that more often than not consisted of was running his errands for him and rewriting every Auror report so that he could read it without straining his eyes.  
  
‘He’s already left, Potter,’ Draco said. It was nearing time for him to leave as well. He hated to leave in the middle of a file, though.  
  
‘Oh, I didn’t—I wasn’t—’ Potter swallowed and tried again. ‘I was just wondering if you planned on coming to the party tonight. I didn’t want to interrupt your work.’  
  
He looked up at Potter, who stood waiting for his answer while shifting his feet as if standing still were impossible for him. Since Draco had never seen him do it, perhaps it was. He would rather spend the evening right where he was sitting than attended one of Potter’s get-togethers.  
  
‘I don’t really see the point in it.’  
  
‘It’s party, Malfoy.’ Potter smiled down at him. ‘It’s to relax and have some fun. Come on, when was the last time you—’  
  
‘I understand the point of a party. I don’t see the point in me attending one with you and your friends.’ It would be the opposite of relaxing for Draco. Potter seemed to catch on to what Draco meant, because his smile fell and he nodded.  
  
‘Oh,’ Potter said. ‘Right, then. I guess I’ll see you Monday?’  
  
‘Where else would I be?’  
  
Potter shook his head and backed away from Draco’s desk. Not long later, a slow trail of Aurors made their way passed Draco’s desk, following Potter’s lead out of the Auror department and to their own homes. Many of which would be joining Potter at his place a few hours later. Draco pushed the thought from his mind, and glared at the parchment before him. What was that word supposed to be?  
  
Auror Jenson  _injured_  the woman’s  _leg_  or did he  _ensure_  her  _pug_? And what would that mean either way? Draco searched the rest of the file for an incident report and as he found none, he decided to mark it down as ensuring the safety of her pug. He further marked the area later for clarification.  
  
What would Draco want with being at Potter’s place anyway? It was uncomfortable enough at work surrounded by people who either hated him or pitied him. Spending his social time with them as well? Potter must have hit his head. Or perhaps someone cursed him and everyone else in his social circle had failed to notice. Draco finished copying the file without thinking about Potter at all, and checked the time.  
  
It wasn’t quite dinnertime yet, and the department was empty.  
  
He looked around to be sure that everyone had left before he pulled out Potter’s cases. He always saved them for last and read them when Potter wasn’t around, because the moment Draco opened one when Potter was around he came by to ask some senseless question, which Draco didn’t have the answer to anyway. If he didn’t come over to Draco’s desk, then he watched him from his own. It was simply more peaceful to work on them when no one was around.  
  
Potter was partners with Weasley, of course, and they were one of the teams working on tracking down the Death Eaters who were still in hiding. They were also the best team working on it. Not that they had much competition. Draco wasn’t an Auror, after all.  
  
_Aurors Potter and Weasley entered the property of 21 Station Road, where Travers and Selwyn were last seen, by the front gate. It was broken. No one answered when knocking, and the front door was left unlocked. The property seemed abandoned, yet there was evidence of it being occupied recently. Food left out for about a week, based on the length of spoilage._  
  
He tried not to imagine the smell and for a moment was glad of his desk job. He read through the extensive list of items found in the house. Normal things populated the list. Beds, clothes, food. Draco paid close attention to the clothes for anything he might recognise. He hadn’t seen much of Travers nor Selwyn around the manor in the summer, but anything could be the clue he needed. Potter was getting better about his reports, and  _his_  penmanship had improved since they were at Hogwarts together, at least.  
  
As boring as Auror reports tended to be, Potter’s were the rare exception. There were the mundane days like the reports Potter had turned in that day. Yet even reading  _three pairs of black trousers, one with tears in the knees and pockets; one pair of grey trousers, never worn_  made Draco feel the anticipation of the catch.  
  
Potter had been so close. They’d been there  _that_  week.  
  
The never worn trousers bothered Draco. It suggested they were tipped off—given time to get out, but not enough to get everything—which could mean someone in the department was spilling secrets. He hadn’t heard any rumours—but, of course, Draco would be their very first suspect.  
  
It was probably why Potter was so eager to get him out to a party. He’d also asked Draco out to the pub before. Draco grit his teeth and kept reading.  
  
On the bottom of the parchment, Potter started a list of things that  _weren’t found_  at the house. Money, not even a bit of change, jewellery, or keys. Nothing that one might take out of their pockets before laying down for the night. More evidence that they’d had notice before leaving to gather the most important things to them, and were just lazy bastard who didn’t bother with their dishes until the last minute.  
  
Curious, Draco pulled out more of Potter’s files. He kept them separate just for moments like this. When did Potter start making lists of things he expected to find, but didn’t? There were similar notes on his last few case files. After some searching, he found that Potter had been adding the small notes since before January. Of course, the Winterbottom case. The notes had first appeared there, and after a quick read through, Draco saw they were what broke the case. What had taken Draco so long to spot it?  
  
He moved on to another open case: Fenrir Greyback.  
  
The file was one of the thinnest. He was very elusive. Greyback didn’t need cute cottages to feel safe in. The woods had been his home for years before—well, just before. Draco straightened in his chair, and a light flashed in his eyes.  
  
‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Draco looked up ready to hex the person who'd cast the charm to be greeted with the rising sun. The Ministry was underground, but it still had enchanted false windows to keep people from feeling closed in and light the rooms for the workers. There was no one around, but that wouldn’t last for too much longer. Draco cursed himself for not keeping better track of the time.  
  
He refiled away all the cases and put his notes in the desk, locking the drawer. If he got out quick enough, maybe no one would see him. It was his day off by then. He had no good explanation for what he was doing there.  
  
Just his luck, once he got out into the hall, Potter was making his way to the department. Did he never take a day off? Potter frowned down at the paper he was reading, and Draco took the moment to disillusion himself. As Potter came closer, Draco held his breath and tried to get a look at what Potter was reading. It wasn’t a file—no one was allowed to take files home with them. It wasn’t a newspaper. It looked like a letter.  
  
Potter stopped reading and shoved it into his pocket as he passed Draco, who— was never one to let an opportunity slip by—snatched it before it as soon as Potter pulled his hand free of his pocket. Draco had always been an excellent thief, not that he needed the skill when taking things from Potter. He dropped things and left things behind so often that Draco rarely ever had to slip his hand into Potter’s pockets to get anything he wanted from him.  
  
Draco smirked as he read the short note:  _The Golden Goose, 7pm?_  
  
Merlin, how often did Potter drink?  
  
Well, Draco wasn’t busy tonight. At least, not too busy to investigate this bit of information. With no signature, it could be one of Potter’s Death Eater contacts. Draco was sure that Potter didn’t write all his information down in his reports, and this was just what he needed to prove that.  


 

  
#

  
  
The Golden Goose was, thankfully, busy that night. He arrived there early and made his way all the way to the back. If it was one of Potter’s contacts, he was meeting with then they’d want more privacy, and either way Draco really didn’t want to be seen. He looked around at the patrons, trying to see if he could figure out who Potter was meeting there.  
  
Draco was impressed when he saw Potter come in the pub five minutes early. He’d expected him to be late, and dressed in his usual off duty clothes—a t-shirt or jumper with jeans two sizes too big for him. Instead he wore grey trousers that  _fit_  him, and a burgundy button-down. Potter walked right towards where Draco sat with a smile on his face, looking just like he always did when he saw Draco at the office and walked up to his desk. For a moment, Draco questioned whether or not he had remembered the notice-me-not spell, until Potter stopped at a different table and joined a man dressed just as well as Potter.  
  
He was too far away for Draco to hear their conversation. There was too much background noise for a spell to help him overhear them from his distance, but before he could locate a better stop, the man took Potter’s hand across the table. Potter blushed as the man’s thumb trailed over his knuckles.  
  
They were flirting. Draco had just stalked Potter on a  _date_.  
  
It was much too hot in pub, as well as pointless to stay, so he got up and made his way to the door. Which forced him to pass their table. He held his breath and had just sighed in relief that he hadn’t been noticed— spell or not, Potter was a good Auror—when Draco heard his name.  
  
Caught, he slowly turned, trying to think up a good excuse for both his being there  _and_  leaving so quickly. Yet when Draco looked at them, he saw that neither of the men sat at the table were looking at him, but were still lost in their own conversation.  
  
‘I see,’ the man said to Potter and pulled his hands back. ‘Hermione told me I was just your type, but she hadn’t explained  _why_. I’m not sure whether or not I should be insulted, really. I’m hoping she meant looks-wise and not personality.’  
  
Potter looked just as confused by what was going on as Draco was.  
  
‘You just called me by someone else’s name.’ He paused. ‘I don’t even have to tell you whose, do I?’  
  
‘I’m sorry. I—’ Potter’s eyes were wide. ‘I told her this was probably a bad idea. I-I was really excited when I saw it was you.’ He closed his eyes and shook his head. ‘I have no excuse for myself.’  
  
Draco tried to place who the person was. Potter was obviously familiar with him. He looked a bit like one of the Hogwarts Seekers, and then Draco decided it must have been him: Summerby. The Hufflepuff. He hadn’t seen him, or more likely noticed him, since they’d last played against each other at Hogwarts five years ago.  
  
Summerby gave Potter a sad smile and said, ‘It’s okay. Perhaps we should—’ He continued to talk, but Draco missed it, because someone who couldn’t see him slammed into his back and dropped their drink. Draco took the moment’s confusion, as everyone’s attention turned to the spilled beer on the floor, to sneak out. Draco had no need to see how the rest of Potter’s date played out. He should have moved on the second it was obvious Potter had not actually said his name. No, he should have kept walking and pretended he hadn’t heard Potter, even if he had actually said his name. Which he clearly had not done.  
  
He also didn’t need to spend the next half hour debating which names might sound like Draco, and whether or not Potter even knew anyone called them.  


 

  
#

  
  
Public. Public, not pubic. The public library. And honestly, ducks. They were ducks not dicks. Fucking hell, Draco was not their grammar teacher. Draco wanted to rip up the report. They had to have written those misspellings on purpose. The public library had been filled with ducks. They’d  _Vanished_  the lot of them. If Draco could have gotten away with slamming his head against his desk he would have. You never  _Vanish_  living creatures. Whose idea was it to accept anyone who participated in the Battle of Hogwarts into the Aurors? Draco was working with a bunch of bleeding idiots.  
  
‘That bad, huh?’  
  
Draco looked up to see Potter smiling down at him.  
  
‘I don’t think growling at it will scare the parchment away, Malfoy.’  
  
‘Will it work on you?’  
  
‘Afraid not.’ Potter dropped his reports into Draco’s inbox. ‘It can’t be that bad.’  
  
‘I’m not sure if this one even happened. Do we even have any Aurors called Gay or Guy?’  
  
Potter slowly shook his head, and Draco rolled his eyes. Well, Draco supposed, they could have decided to make fun of him for any number of worse things.  
  
‘Do you recognise the handwriting?’ Potter frowned as he took the parchment out of Draco’s hand, and began reading it himself.  
  
‘No, I don’t have everyone’s handwriting memorised.’ Draco wished he had that photographic of a memory. It would make his life so much easier. Draco looked up to see that Potter looked positively livid as he read the fake report. He ripped it out of Potter’s hand and shredded it. ‘Goodness, Potter, you’d think it was a personal affront to  _you_ ; I can take a little teasing about my sexuality. Only Muggles care about such things anyway—’ Draco winced, expecting some tirade from Potter about his racist comment.  
  
Instead, Potter just stared at him.  
  
‘What?’  
  
‘Is it really?’  
  
He didn’t know how he should answer that, but Potter seemed to be confirming that Muggles were prejudice against gays so he nodded.  
  
‘Um, no one really cares about what people get up to in their bedrooms.’  
  
‘Really?’ Potter seemed interested in the information, and Draco remembered that he and Potter were  _not_  friends and said, ‘Well, there are plenty of books on it at your local library,’ and then Draco glared at Potter as he smirked down on him.  
  
‘But I thought it was filled with ducks?’  
  
‘No, it’s the Auror department that is simply filled with dicks. Is there something I can help you with? I am busy, you know.’  
  
Potter sighed rubbed his face. ‘Can we just stop this?’  
  
‘Stop what?’  
  
‘Stop fighting? I’m trying here, Draco. I don’t know what you want from me?’  
  
‘I don’t  _want_  anything from you, Potter.’ Draco stood up and moved away from his desk, adding, ‘That’s the point,’ before walking away.  


 

  
**Eighth Year**

  
  
Draco watched Weasley and Potter passing notes at the front of the Potions classroom.  
  
Slughorn returned to Hogwarts for one more year to help the school get back on its feet. Appointing a new Headmaster and getting multiple new professors was enough chaos for a school without all the repairs they had to make before it could be opened again. If Slughorn spent as much time talking about Potions in class as he talked about himself elsewhere, they all would have been experts on the subject by then.  
  
No one really cared why Slughorn was there or for how long; they just wanted to get through the year.  
  
But just as he had in the past, Slughorn let Potter get away with everything. Even passing notes just under his nose. Draco kept out of the front and back rows for his eighth year. He was noticeable enough without drawing attention to himself.  
  
Looking away from the them and back down to his notes, Draco took a breath to calm himself. There was no point it letting himself get worked up over their favouritism. Blaise knocked his elbow against Draco’s. Most of the class had dispersed while he’d been calming himself down. He looked up to see that Potter was long gone, and the idiots had left their note behind. He took his time getting his things together and once Blaise was out the door, Draco made his way to the note and snatched it, shoving it into his pocket before meeting up with Blaise outside the Potion’s classroom.  
  
They waited for Pansy there because it wasn’t too far away from their common room, and she didn’t have a morning class on Mondays. They always made sure to travel in groups for protection. Draco always had, because he had  _always_  been small for his age and therefore an easy target his first few years at Hogwarts. Without Crabbe and Goyle it became a chore.  
  
Since Draco was no longer a marriage prospect for Pansy, she didn’t follow him everywhere and take all the same classes as him. He and Blaise had never been on the same educational track, and the only reason they had Potions together was because Blaise wanted to be a Healer and Draco just liked Potions. Draco had no real directions with his education. He took as much as he could to keep his options opened for after he left Hogwarts. He’d need it as no one wanted to associate with his name any longer.  
  
Pansy was late.  
  
He tried not to let that worry him, but after one look at Blaise, Draco saw that he was worried as well. Without talking about it, they both headed to the Slytherin common room.  
  
They were just about there but stopped upon seeing Potter walking with Pansy toward them. Blaise smirked and Draco glared at the pair of them. Potter caught sight of them and stopped, said something to Pansy and headed back the direction they came from.  
  
‘What were you doing with  _him_?’ Draco asked and they met up in the middle of the hallway and turned to trek to their next classes, which they all were going to be late for. Pansy glared back at Draco, and Blaise was the one to answer:  
  
‘Isn’t it obvious?’ When no one said anything else, Blaise said, ‘Potter probably rescued her from uncertain peril!’ It was becoming a common trend with Potter. Every time a Slytherin was being pushed around—or more likely—attacked, Potter arrived and saved the day. Or so it seemed the way everyone spoke about it. Draco was sure there were plenty that no one ever heard about. Draco was hexed plenty of time without anyone noticing, and he wasn’t about to try and make a fuss over it either. They’d deal with the issue themselves; they’d travel in groups.  
  
She rolled her eyes. ‘I’d hardly call three thirteen year olds uncertain peril, but yes he did save me from having to hex their bollocks off.’ She looked at Draco. ‘They tried to corner me.’  
  
Draco nodded and quit scowling at his friends. ‘We’ll meet you at Slytherin entrance from now on.’  
  
‘No, Draco. Then we’ll be late every day. What are we supposed to tell the Professors? Especially, yours.’ She pushed on when Draco began to protest. ‘I  _know_  you’ve been getting late to your classes because of me.’  
  
He had nothing to say to that, so he didn’t.  


 

  
#

  
  
Draco waited until he was alone in his bed before he looked at Potter's note. He never dared to let Pansy or Blaise see them—the things he nicked of Potter's, when he carelessly left them behind. Potter and Weasley had written back and forth, about how Potter had helped Blaise out that morning. It was easy to tell the difference between their handwriting. Draco knew Potter's well. Weasley had started the conversation:  
  
_You can't take on the whole school, mate.  
  
Are you saying that you're against me?  
  
Of course not.  
  
Then it's not the whole school. We've done it before.  
  
Not like this._  
  
Draco saw why Weasley had rolled his eyes at Potter. Having everyone think he was lying or mad was nowhere near the same as actually duelling them. Though, from both Pansy and Blaise's stories, there hadn't been much of a duel either time. Potter showed up, and they ran.  
  
He didn't hope that Potter would succeed at—whatever he was doing—because Draco couldn't handle more disappointment.  
  
In the morning, Draco's routine started again. He, Blaise, Pansy, and some seventh years walked down to breakfast together. He and Blaise walked Pansy to her class, and at the last possible moment, he and Blaise split off for their separate classes. There were only a few minutes in between each class that Draco was alone. Yet still he knew his luck wouldn’t last and he was two steps away from Charms when the spell hit his back.  
  
Where the fuck was Potter?  
  
In class, of course. When it was Draco’s turn to fall, Potter was in class. Where he was supposed to be. Draco couldn’t move. He would never get used to this spell. They say Imperius was worse, but then at least you were moving. He felt more trapped then, motionless on the floor, than when he was under Imperius. Imperius gave a false sense of calm. This was nothingness.  
  
As his nose broke under the shoe, Draco briefly wondered if he deserved that.  
  
Not from  _this_  person, but from the one he kept wishing would show up. He wouldn’t show up. Draco knew he wouldn’t. Not for him. He switched his focus to the person kicking his ribs. Maybe they only want to break him and not kill him. He couldn’t even concentrate on breathing, because that was a type of movement. So he concentrated on the pain. If he picked one pain, the others faded into the background.  
  
Potter wasn’t coming for him.  
  
He focused on that.  


 

  
#

  
  
After he had left Hogwarts, Draco was turned away from job after job. He couldn’t even get one as an assistant to a shopkeeper. It didn’t matter his NEWT results or his talent with potions. Nothing mattered. Nothing but the mark on his arm and status of his name. This was why the status of his name had always been so important to his father.  
  
His mother tried to convince them they’d be okay. He didn’t have to work. But being a recluse was much too tempting, and they could save and spend little and be okay. It just wasn’t what he wanted. So after another horrid conversation about a job, Draco went to a pub to drink away his sorrows only to be refused. Not in the polite  _your money isn’t good here_  way that so many others had refused him service before.  
  
The bartender completely ignored his presence.  
  
He spoke up to get the man’s attention and all it did was gather everyone else’s. They stared as the bartender ignored him, until he left.  
  
On the street, he saw Potter and tried to duck away, but it turned out that Potter was looking for him. He chased him down the street, until Draco could no longer pretend that he hadn't heard him.  
  
‘What do you want?’  
  
The people on the street turned to stare at them. Draco hadn’t meant to be that loud. He glared at Potter for forcing him into this situation in the first place.  
  
‘I saw you at the Ministry.’  
  
‘And?’  
  
Potter bit his lip and looked down at his feet. ‘I know you’re angry with me and you have every right to be, but Auror Robards was wrong to turn you away because of me.’ He waited for Draco to say something, but Draco had no intention of acknowledging the horrible interview he’d just gone through. He wanted to forget it ever happened. ‘Look, I couldn’t get them to agree to let you into Auror training, but if you are really interested in a working in the department, Kingsley came up with something.’  
  
Draco bit his tongue. He really didn’t want to take anything from Potter, but if he didn’t then he’d likely never get a job.  
  
‘This does  _not_  mean I have forgiven you.’  
  
‘Of course, not,’ Potter said while a smile lit up his face.  
  
Draco hadn’t missed that smile at all. ‘Don’t. I can already see you thinking you’ve won.’  
  
‘I’m not—I’m just . . . glad you’re willing to work with us.’  
  
He rolled his eyes. ‘ _If_  we end up working together, then that is all it will be. Working. We’re not  _friends_ ; you’ve made that perfectly clear to me on more than one occasion. And we’re certainly not anything more.’  
  
Potter reached out of Draco’s arm, but he dodged it causing only Potter’s fingertips to brush against his shirt.  
  
‘Don’t act like you’ve  _ever_  cared about me.’  


 

  
**Present**

  
  
Travers and Selwyn were caught. Draco finished re-writing all their reports and then filed them away only a couple hours after the rest of the staff had left that day.  
  
‘You keep this up and there will be rumours.’  
  
Draco jumped up, pulling out his wand before he registered that it was Potter’s voice mocking him. Potter smiled and leaned over Draco’s desk to see what he was reading about.  
  
‘Greyback?’ Standing up straight again, Potter shook his head. ‘I could really use your help on that one. Thoughts?’  
  
He didn’t want to have the conversation. Draco had some thoughts, but nothing that would break the case wide open. Yet even if he did, no one other than Potter would ever ask that question. No one other than Potter would be willing to listen to him, and it was time he faced that fact. He had to work with Potter or remain stuck copying case files and fetching coffee forever.  
  
‘What werewolves have you talked to?’  
  
Draco already knew the answer to that: none. He had everything in these files memorised. It was nice to see Potter cringe at the question.  
  
‘You haven’t changed at all I see.’ That wasn’t really fair. No one in the department interviewed Dark Creatures. Looking through older files, the Aurors never used to have much of a problem with that, but after the war, a lot of things had changed. Most of the good Aurors were dead, and Potter and Weasley were too new with too little training to think all these things through. They had a tendency to find one path and keep following that one even when it dead ends, instead of checking many different paths.  
  
Potter wasn’t used to failure. Fate being a bastard, yes. His own instincts leading him astray, no.  
  
‘He’ll be in the woods; you have to talk to the beast that live in them.’  
  
‘I know, but I also have to be approved to do that.’  
  
Draco shrugged, knowing how difficult it could be to get anything done properly under a Head Auror who was jealous of everyone around him. Having Draco on his side isn’t going to help Potter there, but he did have a couple of ideas of how to embarrass the man into agreeing to it. If Potter just  _happens_  to come and ask for the approval when someone—say like the Minister of Magic—were visiting, then he’d be much less likely to say no.  
  
Lost in his thoughts, Draco didn’t notice Potter leaning toward him until their lips were a breath away from meeting. His hand flew up holding Potter back. His scent surrounded Draco, and made it hard for him to breathe.  
  
‘Draco.’  
  
‘You let them.’  
  
Potter didn’t need an explanation as to what he was talking about. He put space between them, dropped his shoulders, and said, ‘I’m sorry.’  
  
‘You could have saved me, you let them hurt me, because you couldn't handle being around me for a few minutes to even pull them off me.’ Draco paused, but Potter didn’t attempt to defend his actions. ‘I knew about your map. I know you just watched it happen.’  
  
‘I know.’  
  
‘You used it to watch out for them, every Slytherin except me.’  
  
‘And I don’t know how to make that up to you!’ Potter ran a hand through his hair. ‘What do I have to do? I’m sorry. I’ve told you this before. I’ve tried to move past it, and I’ve tried to be your friend. I was scared and I messed up. There is nothing I can do about that other than to say again, “I’m sorry,” and I am.’  
  
Draco wrapped his arm around himself. ‘That’s all you want? To be my friend?’  
  
‘I want more than that, and you know that, but I’ll settle for your friendship. For now.’  
  
He didn’t know, though. He didn’t know anything about Potter. He thought he did at one time, but Potter proved him wrong over and over again during their eighth year at Hogwarts.  
  
‘I think you do want to give me another chance,’ Potter said. ‘I think that is the reason you were willing to take a job in the Auror department that you hate—’  
  
‘I don’t hate my job.’ Much. He hated the people he worked with, but the job itself was alright for the time being. It also gave him access to all the Auror case files. Which turned out to be more useful than being an Auror would have been. Then he only would have been able to see the cases he was assigned. It wasn’t respected, but he doubting being an Auror would have changed that much for him.  
  
‘But you do want to give me another chance,’ Potter asked, hopefully.  


 

  
#

  
  
‘I can’t believe you made me go and interview dangerous werewolves by myself,’ Potter said when he came into the office immediately after the interview. They’d both stayed late to work that night. Potter had begun to do that recently.  
  
Draco shrugged. ‘I’m not an Auror.’  
  
‘You’re still a wanker.’  
  
It was playful. Yet, it still made Draco tense, because they hadn’t teased each other like that since the summer before eighth year.  
  
‘Weasley should have been there with you,’ Draco said, but then Potter didn’t have a response for that and after a quiet moment Draco added, ‘You didn’t get permission to into the forest and talk to them, did you?’  
  
Potter blushed.  
  
‘Merlin’s balls, did anyone even know where you’d gone?’ Draco had only known he’d gone to talk to some werewolves somewhere. Even he hadn’t known the particulars. If something had gone wrong, he wouldn’t have been much help in finding him.  
  
‘It’s fine. It’s nowhere near a full moon; They were  _mostly_  friendly.’  
  
‘Hmm. Were they any help?’  
  
‘Yes, actually. I have a few new leads; it’s more than we’ve had in months on him.’ Potter paused and read the file over Draco’s shoulder. ‘Anything else you’ve seen that could help?’  
  
Draco smirked up at Potter. ‘Officially?’ And then judging by the look on Potter’s face. ‘Of course, not. You’re not very good at this friendship thing.’  
  
‘What do you want me to do?’  
  
‘Quit lying to your friends,’ Draco said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, because it  _was_. ‘And for that matter: tell Weasley you went and interviewed werewolves all by yourself.’  
  
Potter’s eyes went wide. ‘I can’t do that. He’d kill me. Not to mention Hermione...' Potter trailed off.  
  
‘You’re lucky I didn’t, but  _it was for your own good_  would sound more believable from Weasley than it would ever from me.’ Draco tried to hold back a smile, but the look on Potter’s face was too comical.  
  
‘Come out with me.’  
  
‘What? Right now?’  
  
‘Yeah, right now. When did you last eat?’  
  
The thought of food made Draco stomach growl, stealing his excuse of not being hungry yet. So instead he said, ‘How are you going to hide me in a restaurant?’  
  
‘I’m not going to  _hide_  you.’ Potter leaned on the armrests of Draco’s chair, and moved to try and kiss him but Draco turned his head away.  
  
‘That’s right. You were hiding  _from_ me.’  


 

  
**Eighth Year**

  
  
Harry had promised his friends that he wouldn’t spend the entire summer at Severus’s house, even if it were just down the street from where his mother grew up. So Draco didn’t push it when he left a full month before they were to leave for Hogwarts. Their friendship was new, so Harry wouldn’t have listened to Draco’s demands anyway.  
  
They had owled each other, but there hadn’t been much to say.  
  
Although Draco knew there would be a confrontation when Harry brought Draco around his friends at Hogwarts, he’d hoped it wouldn’t happen so soon. Why had Draco thought that once they saw each other again, it would be just like it was when it was just the two of them? Of course, Harry would want to be with his friends on the train ride.  
  
Had Draco thought Harry would hide from him, he would have insisted they meet somewhere else and board the train together.  
  
Instead, Draco walked along the train as if lost. He’d found a few empty compartments in the beginning, but then kept moving looking for Harry. After going up and down the train twice—and being glared at by most everyone his path crossed—he saw Longbottom with a couple people with red hair.  
  
Taking a deep breath, he opened the compartment door.  
  
Everyone turned to look at him. The rest of the Gryffindors who were returning were in there as well. The blond Ravenclaw girl that was held in his house for months looked up and smiled at him.  
  
‘Hello, Draco,’ she said. ‘Are you joining us?’  
  
‘Actually.’ He wanted to say “yes” and simply sit. Harry would show up eventually. If he didn’t find Draco, then he would look for his friends. But Draco wasn’t sure they’d been informed of his and Harry’s relationship. If they had glared and been angry, then he would have just thought they weren’t happy about it. But they weren’t. They all looked at him confused. As if they didn’t understand what he could possibly want.  
  
‘Actually,’ Draco started again. ‘I was looking for Harry.’  
  
The girl-Weasley instinctively pushed her foot to the side, against something invisible. But it was Longbottom who made Draco sure that the empty seat next to the red haired girls wasn’t empty all. His went wide and he shook his head at the empty space, while everyone else kept their eyes trained on Draco.  
  
‘Well,’ Granger spoke up. ‘We haven’t seen him.’  
  
She was a shit liar. Draco stared hard at the empty seat, until he saw the shifting of the fabric where Harry just couldn’t stay still. Fucking coward. The worst part was that they knew. Who was he hiding Draco from if it was obvious that Longbottom saw through him?  
  
‘Do you want us to tell him you were looking for him?’ Granger’s question got Draco’s attention and he shook his head.  
  
‘No, it’s not important.’ Draco slammed the door behind him, and then went looking for the cabin he’d seen Pansy, Blaise, and Nott in earlier.  


 

  
**Present**

  
  
They walked to Potter’s house after dinner. The restaurant that Draco had picked wasn’t far from his house, and Potter said he’d like some fresh air for a bit. He had never liked large crowds of people. Even without Draco there, people would have stared at him, but it was constant with him across the table. Even their waiter was all curious glances and he’d been too preoccupied with staring that he got both their orders wrong.  
  
‘Can we take it back?’  
  
Draco didn’t answer for a long moment. ‘Take it back to what?’  
  
‘Before Hogwarts.’  
  
‘Which time?’ Draco snorted. He knew Potter meant: before their eighth year. But it wasn’t that simple. He still didn’t understand what made Potter change his mind, and hide from him for over a year. Pretending like nothing had ever happened.  
  
Potter sighed. ‘Do you have to make everything so difficult?’  
  
‘I’m not the one that made this so difficult.’ Draco had to strain to keep his voice even, but his tone left no room to doubt his anger.  
  
They walked on in silence as Draco’s anger continued to rise. What was he doing here? Potter would just hurt him again. Draco would think they were getting on, and then Potter would be with his friends and shoot him down for no reason again. He did it their first year, he did it their eighth year, and he would do it again. Draco just wished he could understand why.  
  
‘I’m sorry,’ Potter said.  
  
‘You know, you apologise and apologise, and you keep trying to make it up to me, but you haven’t once explained to my why you did it in the first place.’  
  
‘I have no excuse; it was wrong. I never should have done it. I’ve regretted it from our first day back at Hogwarts.’ Potter pulled at his hair. ‘I knew you’d never forgive me. That’s why I avoided you during eighth year. I didn’t know what to say to make it up to you, so every time I saw you, I just ran. I was being a coward, and I know that.’  
  
Draco held up a hand to stop Potter’s babbling. ‘That’s not answering my question. So you were too scared to face me after I caught you out on the train? What changed that the day you got me the job? You suddenly weren’t a coward anymore? More importantly; why did you hide from me in the first place? What did you tell your friends, so that they didn’t find it odd that you were under the Cloak the entire train ride?’  
  
‘I told my friends I didn’t want any attention from people about the war, and I thought I might get a lot of unwanted attention on the train.’ Potter paused. ‘Which  _was_  true. I had . . . forgotten about you, until—’ Potter grabbed Draco’s arm as he turned around.  
  
He suddenly didn’t want to hear what Potter had to say. He’d  _forgotten_  about him? Draco had obsessed the whole time Potter was gone -- what seeing him again would be like, and Potter had  _forgotten_  about him.  
  
‘Just wait; you said you wanted to know.’  
  
Not if it was going to hurt that much he didn’t.  
  
‘Please, just wait.’  
  
Once Draco stopped trying to walk away, Potter took a deep breath and continued, ‘that month was hardly a holiday. All we did was talk and think about the dead. Anytime anything happened to remind someone of anyone, everyone began crying. It’s why I went to Snape’s house to hide out in the first place. I needed some peace.’  
  
‘And then I was there,’ Draco pointed out. ‘Our first couple of weeks were anything but peaceful.’  
  
‘Yet, I chose to stay,’ Harry reminded him. ‘And the next month was a rather nice break.’ Harry smiled, and then continued on with his explanation, ‘I had to officially break it off with Ginny—even though I already had before—because she hadn’t believed me the first time, and was once again still waiting on me. So if I wasn’t dealing with people’s ghosts I was warding off questions about Ginny to everyone from her mother to Ron.  
  
‘And as we were heading to Hogwarts, she still wasn’t giving up, everyone was still on edge. It was the worst time ever for me to throw something new at them. And it wouldn’t have just been a “maybe we should try being nice to Malfoy”, which none of them hated you anymore and they probably could have handled, but a “I’ve kind of been sleeping with Malfoy”, which no matter how they felt about you would have made them all hate you as long as Ginny was still holding on.  
  
‘What changed? A major thing that changed, which you should know about, is that Ginny started dating one of your friends. Which meant that no one would be sore with me for moving on anymore, but more importantly: no one would blame you for us breaking up as long as she was happy.‘  
  
Draco slowly started to walk in the direction of Potter’s house, again.  
  
‘I just felt trapped and exhausted. My plan had been to try and find you once we got to Hogwarts, and explain that it is wasn’t a good time to let them know; that I still wanted to be with you, but I needed sometime . . . some space. Not from you, but because of everyone else. I had hoped you wouldn’t come looking for me, but you did. But you did, and the way you stared at me—I knew you hated me again in that moment.’  
  
‘You really think they would have been that upset about you dating someone other than Ginny?’  
  
‘No,’ Potter said shaking his head. ‘I knew they’d blame it all on you. Every time Ginny sighed sadly they’d get angrier with  _you_  for stealing her happy ending.’ He tried for Draco’s hand again, and Draco shoved his hands into his pockets to avoid him.  
  
‘That still doesn’t explain why you never came for me when—’  
  
‘Of course, I came for you.’  
  
Draco looked up at him confused.  
  
‘You’d blacked out by time I got there, but of course I came. How did you think you’d made it to the hospital wing?’  
  
‘No one said it was you.’  
  
Potter smiled. ‘They probably figured you knew. Who else was running around the castle duelling people to save Slytherins from attacks?’  
  
No one.  
  
Pansy and Blaise would have come for him eventually. They were there when he’d wake up. He assumed that his attackers just left him, and his friends came looking for him after class. He never thought for a moment that Potter stopped the attack. It wasn’t that they’d left him after he’d blacked out, it was that they weren’t finished with him. Chills ran through Draco. Potter had saved him, again. He’d still been watching him the whole time, and he  _had_  been there for him just like he’d been there for Draco’s friends. Draco warmed at the thought.  
  
‘How much farther? It feels like we’re going in circles.’  
  
‘That’s because we were.’ Harry gestured up to his house, whose gate was only a few feet away. ‘I didn’t want you to leave yet, but I wasn’t sure if you’d agree to come up.’  
  
Oh.  
  
‘Will you?’  
  
Harry opened the gate as Draco stood frozen before it. Who was he kidding? The moment he thought of him as Harry again, he knew his answer would be yes. So Draco nodded and slowly followed Harry through the gate and up the front steps. Harry hesitated at the door, watching Draco’s expression.  
  
The house was dark, but the houses around his all had specks of lights. There was laughter at his neighbour’s back garden and a lot of cars on the street. They must have been having a party. The night was cool for late July. A good night to be out. Harry’s eyes were intense as they stared into his. He was going to kiss Draco again.  
  
Draco knew the look well.  
  
He wet his lips and tried to calm his breathing. It was just a kiss. They'd done that plenty before, even if it had been three years ago. Harry’s lips met Draco’s and he didn’t push him away. Draco pressed back and then their tongues met, but he wasn’t sure if he was the one who'd started that or if it was Harry. Someone whistled and hollered at them from the street, and they pulled back and laughed together.  
  
Harry unlocked his door and pulled Draco through it. Without turning on the lights, Harry pushed Draco against the inside of the door to close it. Quickly capturing his mouth again. Draco dug his finger into Harry’s hair, as Harry pulled at Draco’s clothes.  
  
The lights went on.  
  
And slowly people quietly popped up out of their hiding places.  
  
Hermione half-heartedly raised her hands in the air and said, ‘Surprise.’ After giving an uncomfortable laugh, she added, ‘Happy birthday, Harry.’  
  
‘Happy Birthday?’ Harry whispered.  
  
Draco let his left leg fall off Harry’s hip, not sure when exactly it had reached there, and let go of Harry’s hair. Harry pushed Draco against the door, as if he knew Draco was already thinking of trying to escape, and kissed him again. He stopped and whispered, ‘Stay?’ and wouldn’t release him until Draco answered, ‘Okay.’  
  
Letting Draco go, Harry turned a bright smile on the crowd of people in his living room.  
  
‘My birthday isn’t for another five days.’  
  
‘Well,’ Ron said, from next to Hermione. ‘We thought Friday would be a better night for a party.’  
  
‘I agree,’ Harry said. He took Draco’s hand and then pulled him into the room, so that he could go give his friends hugs. No matter how awkward it was to do so, Harry would not let go of Draco’s hand. Harry being Harry had to hug every single last person there.  
  
Draco had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. From the looks he got from Pansy and Blaise, he still failed at keeping it hidden.  
  
Blaise and Pansy as well as many other Slytherins were there.  
  
‘What are you two doing here?’  
  
‘He saved our lives,’ Blaise said. ‘Remember?’  
  
‘Saved yours, too,’ Pansy said. ‘A few times.’  
  
‘Turns out I didn’t remember all of those.’ He glared at his friend accusingly.  
  
Harry sighed. ‘Draco, drop it; it was years ago.’  
  
‘As I recall,’ Blaise said turning to Pansy. ‘We were forbidden from speaking someone’s name. Do you remember who's that was, Pansy?’  
  
‘Enough,’ Ginny said as she came up behind Blaise and wrapped her arms around him, resting her chin on his shoulder. At Draco’s surprise, Ginny continued, ‘You need to get out more, Malfoy. It’s not healthy to work all the time.’ Her eyes travelled from Draco to Harry with that last sentence.  
  
Harry rolled his eyes and then kissed Draco, quickly. Draco could feel himself blush. It was a bit fast for him. Two hours ago, he was still fighting with giving Harry any chance and then everyone was already looking at them like a couple. Every time Draco looked toward the door, Harry leaned in and asked him to stay before Draco could think of a reason to leave.  
  
So he stayed. When the only people Draco felt comfortable around left, he stayed. When everyone, except Harry’s closest friends had left, he stayed. After they had left as well, he stayed.  
  
After everything was cleaned up and  _everyone_  had left, they stood alone in the kitchen. Harry pulled Draco to him and began kissing him again.  
  
‘Can we go back?’  
  
Draco kissed him back. ‘To when?’  
  
‘The front door, a few hours ago?’  
  
Groaning, Draco said, ‘I don’t know. It’s getting late.’  
  
‘Stay,’ Harry said. ‘I want you to stay.’  
  
So Draco did.  


 

  
**Summer Before Eighth Year**

  
  
  
After the war, Draco spent the summer at Severus’s Muggle house. When Draco needed to get away for a moment, he'd walk down to the park.  
  
It was late. Well past midnight when he sat on the swing with a bottle of Severus’s cheap liquor.  
  
What Draco’s mother was thinking sending Draco to live amongst Muggles, Draco couldn’t fathom. It was what she always did when she worried for his safety and could send him off to Severus for a short visit while things calmed down at the manor. But with Severus gone, and Potter in his place, Draco felt not only unsafe but unwelcome as well.  
  
Draco was familiar with the house since he had spent many summer days there throughout his childhood.  
  
Yet Severus had left it to Potter.  _Potter_. He was cleaning out, and that was the only reason Draco was glad his mother sent him away for the summer after the war. He couldn’t let Potter throw away Severus’s things.  
  
When Draco had showed up, he went straight to his room. Potter nearly attacked him when he showed up later that day. Potter’s face was covered in shock when he repeated what Draco had told him:  
  
‘This is  _your_  bedroom?’  
  
‘Of course, Professor Snape wouldn’t have had me sleeping on the sofa.’  
  
They were more than a little surprised at seeing each other there. Yet after weeks of avoiding each other and then a few more fighting over what to and not to keep of Severus’s, they got used to each other. Too used to each other for Draco’s comfort.  
  
He took another drink as he listened to Potter’s footsteps drag against the pavement on his way down to the park. A few minutes and swigs later, Potter took the bottle from Draco’s hand and the swing next to him. After taking a drink, he passed the bottle back.  
  
‘I’m sorry.’  
  
Draco snorted. ‘Aren’t you always?’  
  
‘I shouldn’t have talked about your father. It was stupid. I was just trying to rile you up.’ Potter paused. ‘And it worked.’  
  
Rolling his eyes, he took another drink and then handed the bottle to Potter.  
  
‘You’re cute when you get all angry and flustered.’  
  
‘Fuck off,’ Draco said.  
  
He laughed at that. Even Draco knew he wasn’t really angry at him anymore, and that cursing at him felt too playful as much as they used it to play around now.  
  
‘Seriously, I wasn’t trying to be insulting. I just . . . we both know that everything is going to be different, and . . . if you ever need me. I’m there for you, you know?’  
  
‘You promise?’ Draco hated how much he doubted it. So many people had let him down in the past, but he was trying to get past that. Potter wasn’t one of them. He was someone new to trust.  
  
‘I promise.’  
  
Potter nudged his foot against Draco’s, and it sent chills up Draco’s spine. He shouldn’t give in so easily, but he looked over to Potter and with Potter smiling at him—even if it was a sad sort of smile—he couldn’t help but give in completely.  
  
He leaned his head against the chain of the swing, and let Potter lean in and kiss him.  


 

  
**Future**

  
  
Draco took off his glasses to rub his eyes. He was going to add a penmanship course to the Aurors' training curriculum. He smiled at the thought that he’d had that ability. He’d been promoted to the Auror department supervisor a few years before Harry made Head Auror. They worked together to come up with everything the new Aurors needed to do in order to complete their training. They’d learned a lot over the years about what had been lacking in the training program. He wondered if Harry would let him get away with having them learn calligraphy. Probably not. Anything legible would do though.  
  
Harry hovered in front of Draco’s desk.  
  
‘Yes?’  
  
‘You almost ready?’ Harry asked. ‘We have a party to get to.’  
  
‘You and your parties.’ Draco shook his head at his husband’s smile. ‘I’m getting too old for this.’  
  
Harry scoffed. ‘You’re hardly middle-aged, and it’s not like we’re going to be playing truth or dare, spin the bottle, or never have I ever. It’s just food, drinks, and chatting with friends.’  
  
‘I kind of like the idea of  _never have I ever_.’ Draco smirked. ‘Alright then, just let me finish this one—’  
  
‘These can wait until Monday,’ Harry said closing the files still open on Draco’s desk. ‘You will be here Monday, right?’  
  
Smiling, he asked, ‘Where else would I be?’

 

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